23 March, 2010

p.m.

Being a creature of the night is to be off, by a slim matter of hours, a drop in the grand-scheme bucket, but forever off. I am (at the least) never quite fully in gear when the functioning world is engaged, and remain espresso-fueled to keep up. My switch to on-ness is incremental, predictable. As evening deepens into something that seems a bit more permanent, there is always this: the smooth pressing down of the foot on the accelerator of my being. If you know what I am getting at, perhaps now is a time to stand, take one step forward and carefully enunciate who you are. My name is...and I am a night-owl.